


Holding Out For A Hero

by faithtastic



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Extended Scene, F/F, Femslash, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F!Hawke and Merrill's love scene at the Hawke estate, expanded upon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out For A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This contains dialogue from the game, which belongs to Bioware, natch.

Hawke had been half-heartedly sifting through the day's correspondence when she heard the heavy front door close with a slam. She turned, surprised to see Merrill here at this late hour.

Discarding the pile of letters on her writing desk, Hawke approached the other woman.

“Oh, thank goodness you're here! I thought you went to the Hanged Man.”

The elf began pacing restlessly. “And I almost went there to look for you first, but then I thought you might have gone to see your uncle instead...” She came to a stop in front of Hawke. “And I'm rambling, aren't I?”

It was one of the many aspects of Merrill's personality that Hawke found endlessly charming. “I don't mind. You're adorable when you're flustered.” She watched, a smirk of satisfaction tugging at the corners of her mouth, as the very tips of Merrill's tapered ears turned pink.

“After you left, I... I couldn't stop thinking about Pol, and the mirror, and everything that's happened. I wonder if... if I've made a mistake. Leaving the Dalish.”

These sort of conversations normally left Hawke floundering; she always tried to deflect with humour but seeing the anguish in Merrill's eyes, she knew she'd need to try a more sensitive approach. “You're just feeling homestick. Don't second guess yourself.”

Merrill studied her for a moment, those lovely, mournful eyes regarding Hawke steadily.

“I suppose if I hadn't left my people, I never would have met you.” The elf brought a hand up to rub at her brow, her voice quieter when she continued. “I'm not like you. I wish that I were. You're beautiful and clever and you never make any mistakes, and I... I don't deserve you.”

Everyone seemed to put Hawke on a pedestal these days and she was getting so tired of it because, flattering as the attention and praise was, Hawke couldn't possibly live up to the ideal that the citizens of Kirkwall had created. Of course, Varric's ridiculously exaggerated tales didn't help matters... “I'm not as perfect as you think, Merrill. I'm not some sort of goddess.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. Some people worship you from afar, you know...” The elf lowered her eyes. “It's foolish of me to even dream that you might...”

It was as clear a signal of intent as she would ever get but Hawke was wary of overstepping boundaries and damaging their friendship, despite the fact that they'd been dancing around this attraction for years. “You don't have to dream about it,” she said, keeping her tone light.

Merrill ducked her head, seemingly incapable of holding Hawke's gaze now that she'd finally aired her feelings. The vulnerability in her expression was all the impetus Hawke needed. “Merrill...” she reached over to cup the elf's jaw, gently forcing her to look at her. “It's all right.”

It was Merrill, though, that impulsively closed the distance between them, stepping up to kiss Hawke with a passion that she could never have guessed at. Thin arms wrapped around Hawke's shoulders, as if clinging on for life itself. Then, just as quickly, Merrill pulled away, glancing worriedly at Sandal standing in the corner of the room.

He stared at them, goggle-eyed.

“Maybe we should go to your bedroom, or is that too forward? Isabela's been giving me advice about how to go about this and I... I'm making a big mess of it, aren't I? I should've...”

Hawke silenced Merrill with a kiss. “Don't worry,” Hawke said after a moment of luxuriating in the softness of the other woman's lips. “And _don't_ listen to Isabela.”

She took Merrill by the hand and led her upstairs.

\---

 

Now that she'd sampled it, Hawke couldn't get enough of the taste and texture of Merrill's mouth. She could've castigated herself for making herself wait so long - all those bloody years wasted! - but she'd always known that this had to happen on Merrill's terms, anything else would've felt like taking advantage of the elf's naivety.

But the way that Merrill kissed her was a far cry from the awkward inexperience Hawke had imagined during idle fantasies. There was nothing tentative about the way Merrill's lips and tongue moved deftly against her own, drawing her into heated entanglements before retreating again.

“You're really very good at this,” Hawke murmured between kisses. “Just how much did Isabela teach you?”

“She just gave me a few pointers.”

Hawke drew back, hoisting one eyebrow. “Oh, did she? Her lessons better not have involved practical demonstrations.”

Merrill stuttered for a few seconds before Hawke took pity on her. “I'm joking.”

The elf laughed self-consciously. “Sorry, I'm just... I want to be good for you. But I've never, I haven't been with...”

Hawke brought her hand to Merrill's cheek, trying to assuage her fears. “Merrill, we don't have to do this if you're not ready. I want you to be happy and comfortable, not to feel under duress.” She gave a lopsided smile. “I may have to douse myself in cold water but I can wait.”

“No!” Merrill responded quickly, “I want this, I do. Vhenan'ara. I want you so much it's making me shake like a leaf. I've thought about it a lot. Sometimes I can't think of anything else, which is dangerous, really, when we're meant to be fighting slaver gangs or dragonlings and the only thing on my mind is you, undressing me. Oh, I've said too much, haven't I?”

Caught by the naked desire reflected in the elf's large, expressive eyes, Hawke let her thumb caress the soft skin of Merrill's cheek, tracing the shape of her clan tattoo. “You're so beautiful,” she whispered.

She felt Merrill's hand slip into her own free one and became dimly aware that she was being tugged towards the bed. She watched, almost in a daze, as Merrill lay back on the sheets, never relinquishing her hold on Hawke's hand. With one final tug, Hawke flowed down with her, capturing Merrill's lips in another kiss as she went.

 

\---

 

As each new inch of pale skin was revealed to her, Hawke claimed it with her mouth. Beneath her Merrill squirmed, apparently ticklish. Long fingers raked restlessly through Hawke's hair, tugging inadvertently on her scalp whenever Hawke encountered a particularly sensitive spot; she catalogued each and every one of them for future reference.

Soon the elf grew impatient with the teasing nature of Hawke's touch so she relented, allowing Merrill to kiss her again. Small hands worked at the knot at the waist of Hawke's robe, before easing the material off her shoulders. She felt rather than heard the gasp that Merrill let out when the elf found that she wore nothing underneath.

“Aneth ara!”

Hawke was propped above Merrill, arms braced on either side of the other woman's shoulders and Merrill's wide, eager eyes were firmly rooted on her breasts. As breasts went they were unremarkable. She wasn't as... well-endowed as Isabela but she'd never had any complaints. If Merrill's expression was anything to go by, Hawke's tits were the most magnificent things she'd ever seen.

“See something you like?”

“Oh, yes! Can I...?”

Hawke smirked. “You don't need a gilded invita-” Before she even had a chance to finish speaking, Merrill darted forward and latched her mouth around a nipple, instantly sending a bolt of need straight to Hawke's loins. The elf alternated between each breast, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh, each pull on Hawke's nipples causing an answering flare between her legs. It wasn't long before her hips began seeking friction against Merrill's body, moving purposefully against her lean, flat stomach.

“This needs to come off,” Hawke said, plucking at the one-piece undergarment that was the last thing preserving the elf's modesty, aware that her voice sounded high and breathy. The choice of garment itself was rather surprising and Hawke couldn't help but wonder if it'd been Isabela's suggestion too. Just how long had those two been hatching this plan, the seduction of Cara Hawke, exactly?

Once Merrill was naked beneath her Hawke took a few moments to enjoy the view, eyes tracking over long, willowy limbs and modest breasts - a perfect handful - capped by pale pink nipples. “Maker's breath, you're wonderful,” Hawke said, almost reverently, and it caused Merrill to look away, shy under Hawke's keen stare.

“Look at me, Merrill,” she insisted. When those beautiful eyes gazed up at her, Hawke lifted a hand to trace kiss-swollen lips. “I want you. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you on Sundermount.” She sighed. “Now who's saying too much?”

A smile bloomed slowly over Merrill's face. She leaned up, kissing Hawke so sweetly that it made her heart contract. It wasn't a kiss given as an expression of desire but as a promise sworn.

 

\---

 

Their kisses were formless now, more a melding of open mouths, mingled breath coming in short huffs. What had begun as a slow exploration had quickly turned into a passionate embrace of friction and heat. Sweat clung to their bodies, sticky where their skin met at hip and breast.

Hawke was hovering on the precipice of release but she held herself back, wanting Merrill to experience the euphoria first. Judging by the flush of her skin and the unintelligible Dalish phrases tumbling from her lips, she was close already.

Mere moments later Merrill's back arched and she let out one last, exquisitely long moan as Hawke's fingers twisted within her. The sight and sound of the elf coming undone was almost enough to topple Hawke over the edge herself.

Carefully withdrawing her fingers, Hawke settled by the other woman's side, propping herself up on one elbow as she watched Merrill try to get her breathing under control. She stared up at the ceiling with wide, glassy eyes, the hint of a delirious smile playing around her lips; she looked utterly, gloriously  _fucked_ and Hawke couldn't resist feeling a little bit smug.

“Ma serannas,” Merrill said in an awe-struck whisper. She turned her face towards Hawke, eyes positively shining with pleasure and affection. “Emma sa'lath.”

“Since I don't speak Dalish, I'll take that as a compliment.”

Merrill bit her lip and nodded. “It is.”

They lay there, taking in the measure of each other as if for the first time until Merrill suddenly shifted, pushing Hawke onto her back and straddling her hips. She took Hawke's hands and pinned them above her head. “Your turn,” Merrill said before kissing her way down Hawke's body.

When Merrill reached Hawke's navel and showed no signs of stopping her descent, Hawke craned her neck to look, feeling her pulse flutter in anticipation. “Is this one of the things Isabela told you about?”

“Maybe,” was Merrill's muffled response.

At the first startling swipe of a tongue against her sex, Hawke's hips nearly flew off the bed and she was sure she felt the vibration of Merrill's laugh against her sensitive skin. “Remind me to thank her for it later, then,” she managed to say before she completely lost the ability to form coherent sentences.

 

\---

 

The dawning of a new day had begun. Pale sunlight filtered through the gaps in the drapes and the song of the larks could be distantly heard. Merrill nuzzled into Hawke's shoulder, cleaved as she was to the length of her side, while Hawke drew aimless patterns on the elf's skin as she stroked her arm.

It was a long time before Merrill eventually spoke. It was probably the longest she had gone in Hawke's company without chattering. “What happens now?” She hesitated. “Are we... what did this mean?”

“You know, we might have to try that a few more times to really get the meaning...”

They lapsed into silence and Hawke began to think that maybe she should've refrained from making light of it when Merrill blurted, “I love you.” There was a pause. “I probably shouldn't have said that, should I? I always say the stupidest things...”

There was a time for levity and Hawke knew categorically that this wasn't one of them. Besides which, wasn't it about time she confronted her own feelings? She took a steadying breath, somehow feeling more terrified of the slender woman in her arms than she had been facing a high dragon. “I love you, Merrill. Actually, I was going to suggest you move in with me.”

Ignoring the part of her that was berating herself for being too fast, Hawke watched Merrill expectantly as she rose out of bed.

“Here? In Hightown?” was Merrill's incredulous reply. “The rich, fancy part of the city with no rats in it? And you... with an elf?” She looked at Hawke, clearly waiting for her to retract her offer.  “Ma vhenan... you really are crazy, aren't you?”

Hawke got up, stepping close to the other woman. She'd never cared what other people thought of the company she kept, not when she'd lived in the Lowtown slums and certainly not amongst the nobility. Merrill was worth a hundred of the bigots who branded her 'knife ears' or worse and Hawke was proud to consider her a friend and, now, her lover. By her side, she wanted Merrill to stand tall and she would do everything in her power to make Merrill see how special, how cherished she was.

“If you're not afraid, then... neither am I,” Merrill said, with new-found conviction, leaning up on her tip-toes to kiss Hawke.


End file.
